Can't Fight The Moonlight
by digitalMuse
Summary: *slash* Harry learns that love doesn't always have a happy ending...
1. information

Title: Can't Fight The Moonlight

Author: Alex Parker, the original digitalMuse

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: The goddess-incarnate known as JK Rowling gave birth to Harry, Ron, Draco, and the gang. Thus, I own no characters. Nor do I own the title; its from a song, the _very_ song in the prologue, called _Can't Fight The Moonlight_ by Leanne Rhymes. (Everyone must watch "Coyote Ugly" NOW!) I do, however, stake claim to all precarious situations I make my loves endure. ::insert evil laugh here::

Spoilers: SS, CoS, PoA, GoF - I started this story before OoP, it takes place in 5th year, therefore its staying true to the first four books. While reading, pretend OoP never happened. Maybe I'll add stuff from the book in here - maybe not. Author's discretion!

Warning: Slash alert! I'm a Draco/Harry shipper really really bad, so please beware. I'm not smutty - can't seem to do it - but a huge fluff addict. **Beware!**

Notes: If I finish this, it'll be a miracle. It's my first slash piece, so it could be a bit awkward. And I've figured out I can't write Harry! That's kind of bad, since the ship is D/H! But I tried hard to keep them in character. Draco's hard as well, for someone so evil to fall in love. (Awww)

Go read!

_end transmission_


	2. prologue

In the car on the way to King's Cross Station, Dudley sat in front with Uncle Vernon and insisted on changing the stations of the radio. When he found a new hit song, he sat back and listened, content. Harry rather liked the song, for no apparent reason, so he decided to listen instead of finishing his (messy) letter to Sirius.  
  
/Under a lover's sky / Gonna be with you / And no one's gonna be around / You think that you wouldn't fall / Well, just wait until / Til the sun goes down / Underneath the starlight / Starlight / There's a magical feeling so right / It'll steal your heart tonight!/  
  
"Hey, boy! Get your trunk, we're here! And never ask me to drive you to this, this. . . place again!" As soon as Harry jumped out of the car with his things, Uncle Vernon was off. /Yeah, I'll miss you too/, Harry thought bitterly.  
  
Still, as he made his way onto Platform 9 and ¾, he couldn't help but smile. He would finally be going home to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had been anxious all summer, almost like he was waiting for something to happen. He could see Voldemort running into his house on Number Four, Privet Drive and killing him with a few uttered words. Hogwarts was definitely safer, he concluded. He just couldn't wait to be back, to be home again.  
  
* * *  
  
Draco sighed. A Muggle taxi. A common Muggle taxi! He was appalled at the mode of transportation his mother had arranged for him. The driver thought he was right insane, what with his large trunk and eagle owl, and Draco rather thought the same of him. He sighed and looked out the window as the driver turned up the radio.  
  
/You can try to resist/Try to hide from my kiss/But you know/But you know that you/Can't fight the moonlight/Deep in the dark/You'll surrender your heart/But you know/But you know that you/Can't fight the moonlight, no./You can't fight it. /It's gonna get to your heart./  
  
Stupid Muggle music. Stupid Muggle taxi. Stupid. . . stupid. . . stupid heart! He'd been trying to get rid of the nagging feeling all summer, but it just wouldn't go away. and Draco was afraid this year at school would make it worse. 


	3. one: Falling Is Like This

Chapter One  
*~*~*  
Like you're trying to fight gravity  
On a planet that insists  
That love is like falling,   
And falling is like this  
~Falling Is Like This by Ani Difranco~  
*~*~*  
  
Harry Potter wandered around the platform, trying to find his two best friends. Hermione Granger had been staying with the Weasleys this summer while her parents were in America. Harry had watched a romance spark between Ron and Hermione all summer. He was dying to see how his two best friends were doing and if they were still alive. He hadn't heard from them for two weeks, and as much as they were in love, they were still Ron and Hermione. They bickered over everything!  
  
Harry finally sat down on a bench, his feet pounding. He had looked all over and hadn't found them yet. He decided they weren't here yet. Making sure he had a clear view of the barrier for when they did arrive, Harry closed his eyes for a brief second, breathing in the crisp air. A strange scent floated by his nostrils suddenly. It smelled delectable, but he could not place it. Opening his eyes, he found he had smelled aftershave. That was not what turned his stomach, but the fact that the aftershave was coming from one Draco Malfoy, Harry's archenemy.  
  
"Staring at something in particular, Potty?" Malfoy sneered. Harry wanted to slap the smirk off his face, but restrained himself. He could feel the urge to tackle Malfoy building.  
  
"Bug off, Malfoy," he sighed. Draco looked at Harry suspiciously. Harry watched as the look in his eyes turned from confusion, to amazement, to pure terror. He immediately turned and sprinted off to the train. Odd, he thought to himself. Malfoy acted almost scared of me! Harry shrugged. Serves him right.  
  
* * *  
  
Draco had to put as much distance between the Golden Boy and him as he could. Slumping against the side of the train, he ran a pale hand through his even paler hair. How he could have almost broke down like that was unthinkable. What was even worse was why he had almost broken down.  
  
Draco had spotted Potter from across the crowd and could not help but start the year off with a little harassing. Walking right up to him, his stomach did a flip. Draco thought it was because he didn't have his thugs with him in case things got rough, but then noticed Potter's cronies were nowhere to be found either. He was about to throw out a clever comment when Harry's eyes sprang open. The two made eye contact, and the look Potter was shooting him caught Draco completely off guard. Finally, Draco mentally shook himself and got his wit back.   
  
"Staring at something in particular, Potty?" Draco realized his heart wasn't even in the teasing. Potter's entire body tensed.  
  
"Bug off, Malfoy." A simple command, but he had said it with such confidence and power that Draco was taken aback. There was something different about Harry Potter this year, and Draco suddenly found himself thinking the unthinkable. He then turned around and ran, fast as he could, away from the temptation.  
  
Draco Malfoy had wanted to kiss Harry Potter.  
  
The world was coming to an end.  
  
* * *  
  
By the time the scent of Halloween lingered heavily in the air, Draco had convinced himself of the absurdity of the situation. His teenage hormones had kicked into overdrive for a second, and Potter had been the first thing in his sight. It wasn't a conscious choice or anything!  
  
Why would he be attracted to Harry Potter, anyway? It was unheard of! His father would never accept that sort of behavior. He didn't accept werewolves, Muggles, or Muggle-borns… why would he accept this? And even if he were attracted to… to… to boys, he definitely would not choose Potter as his first attempt.  
  
Harry Potter had disgusted Draco ever since he was old enough to recognize the name. Draco looked up to and revered his father more than anyone else in the world. If his father hated the Potters', well, Draco figured he had a good reason and so he would hate them too. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. "Such rubbish!" his father would tell him. "Something happened the night the Dark Lord disappeared, something we don't understand. It has nothing to do with power and weakness. The boy was a fluke." Draco wanted to believe it, but the more he watched Potter over the years, under his father's orders, the more he believed there really was something special about the poor orphan. He flew amazingly without ever having been on a broom before. He could master complex spells faster than that mudblood Granger, the brains of the school. He was always solving mysteries around the school, too, and somehow always got out of the trouble he dug for himself. It was like he was a child prodigy! Yet despite everything strange and good about Harry Potter, Draco had always hated him.   
  
"Hey boss," a voice behind him grunted. Draco didn't have to turn around to know who it was.   
  
"Crabbe, where were you at dinner?" Draco just kept walking, knowing Crabbe would follow.  
  
"Looking for Goyle, sir."  
  
"Well, did you find him?" Silence told him that Goyle was still missing. Draco turned to find Crabbe had disappeared as well, and sighed. As his father always said, it's impossible to find loyal thugs these days.  
  
* * *  
  
"So Harry, who do you reckon will go out for the Quidditch team this year?" Ron asked. Full from dinner, the three had headed up a little early to get to their dorms. Harry wanted to avoid bumping into Malfoy, who had given him a strange feeling ever since their meeting at the train station. He had successfully not seen him outside of class since September 1st.  
  
"Oh Ron, can't we talk about something other than the Quidditch teams?" Hermione badgered, squeezing Ron's hand. "Really, there are more important things!"  
  
"Like what, Hermione?" Ron countered, but when he saw the look in Hermione's eyes, he quickly shut up. Harry looked between the two and smiled. He wondered how all their years of fighting could have led up to this. Shaking his head, he turned a corner and ran head first into the person he least wanted to meet.  
  
"Malfoy! What are you doing up here?" he asked quickly. Malfoy looked Harry up and down, and then glanced over at Ron and Hermione. They seemed to have not even noticed Harry had stopped, and kept walking off to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
Turning back to Harry, Draco sneered. "As if it's any of your business, Potter, I was looking for Crabbe and Goyle. They disappeared."  
  
"But why would they be up here?" Malfoy shrugged, and looked past Harry. They both stood for a minute. Then Harry found himself voicing the question he'd had for months.   
  
"What happened that day in the train station, Malfoy?"  
  
* * *  
  
Draco looked at the floor. He could hear the boy breathing. Why did he like it? Oh god, not now, please not now!  
  
"What happened that day in the train station, Malfoy?" Harry asked suddenly. Draco's head snapped up, but his eyes still avoided Harry's. What was he supposed to say?  
  
"What the bloody hell do you mean? Nothing happened!" Draco caught himself, and took a deep breath. He was getting hysterical. Just hormones, he reminded himself. He needed a wise comeback, something his father would have been proud of.  
  
"I was caught off guard. You were looking particularly like an orphan, that's all, sitting there all by yourself." Harry's body tensed at the comment, and Draco knew it was the perfect thing to say. Unfortunately, the Golden Boy must have gained some muscles over the summer, because he pounced on Draco and knocked him to the ground before he knew what was happening.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry sat there, legs strattling Draco's torso, his fist an inch from Draco's nose. His hand was shaking from holding back the punch. He was finally back where he belonged; he did not need hassling from Malfoy! Yet the smaller boy just sat there, still, underneath Harry. He didn't make a move. Harry looked at Draco, and for a split second it seemed like he was too scared to move. Then the look faded.  
  
"Listen Potter, I'm having an off day. If you would be so kind as to get off me, we could go on our merry little ways and forget tonight ever happened."  
  
As soon as Harry rolled off Draco he stood up and walked quickly back downstairs. Harry stared after him. 


	4. two: Cruel To Be Kind

Chapter Two  
*~*~*  
Well I do my best to understand you  
But you still mystify and I wanna know why  
I pick myself up off the ground  
To have you knock me back down  
Again and again when I ask you   
To explain you say…  
~Cruel To Be Kind by Letters To Cleo~  
*~*~*  
Draco didn't end up going back to his dorm, but wandered out the main doors to the lawn instead. It was a beautiful night, the stars shining unusually bright. Their shine bounced off the lake like a million sparks from a fire. Fire… the fire than burned in him whenever he saw…  
  
No! Draco shook himself physically. He had come out here to stop those kinds of thoughts, not encourage them.  
  
Glancing over at the Whomping Willow, the tree seemed peaceful at first glance, but he knew what horrors it held. Running to catch a Frisbee in his second year, when he had actually tolerated Pansy, he had run right into the trunk of the horrid tree. His back still cracked when twisted the wrong way.  
  
The tree was rather like Draco, in an opposite way. On the outside, Draco was horrid, but inside… well, there was more to him than people thought.  
  
Thankfully enough for Draco, that one encounter in the halls was all he had with Potter so far. He saw the least of Potter he'd ever had. His father was lightening up on the stalking orders, so Draco actually had a chance to study once in a while. His grades were improving, except in Transfiguration. McGonagall really did hate him.  
  
Quidditch practices had also started, keeping Draco on his toes. He had done nothing but train over the summer, wanting to be the best. Pansy had told him many a time he wasn't the greatest player Hogwarts had ever seen, and he was now determined to prove her wrong. Needless to say, Draco had all but forgotten about stupid Potter and the feelings he was harboring. In fact, they had seemed to disappear themselves. Seemed to.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry was extremely grateful Quidditch had started up again. Ron had, after much convincing, tried out for the team and made it, much to Harry's joy. Now he got to fly alongside his best friend, who just happened to be a spectacular Keeper.  
  
"Harry?" It was Ron, breaking him from his train of thoughts. They were sitting in the common room a few days later, watching Hermione study.  
  
"What's up?"  
  
"Well, I just wanted to see if you were okay. You've been acting strangely ever since school started. Dazed, you know. What's going on with you?" Ron asked, worried. Hermione put her books aside for the first time all day and joined them.  
  
"Ron's right, Harry. You seem out of place."  
  
Harry shook his head. He couldn't tell them what was wrong, could he? "Just nerves, you know. Voldemort and all." Hermione glanced at Ron quickly and nodded.  
  
"Harry, we've wanted to ask… I mean, you never told us… what happened last year during the third task? What happened with Cedric, and You-Know-Who?" Dumbledore had told the school the year before that Voldemort killed Cedric, but that was pretty much the extent of their knowledge. Out of concern and a little bit of fear, they had avoided questions about Voldemort's rebirth all summer.  
  
"Do you really want to know?" he asked then darkly. Ron shook his head, but Hermione elbowed him in the gut.  
  
"Of course Harry. You need to talk about things like that!"  
  
Harry turned away from them and looked off into the fire. He was quiet for so long that Ron thought he had forgotten they were there. Then, he started to speak.  
  
"I thought the third task would be easier than the first two, ya know? I'd gotten through obstacles before, even if it was with your help. I entered the maze with Cedric, and we went our separate ways… I didn't encounter anything for a while. Like someone was helping me. Of course, I didn't know it at the time, but Moody was helping me. So I kept walking, and all of a sudden I heard Fleur scream. It was horrible. As much as I wanted to find her, I couldn't help thinking she was one champion down. I felt so cruel…" Harry droned on about Krum attacking Cedric, and how they helped each other, and both reached the Cup and touched it at the same time. Then he stopped. This was where the memories were so vivid, yes, but so disturbing.  
  
"The Cup had been turned into a Portkey. It brought us to a graveyard. Wormtail was there. He did some kind of spell. He took some blood from me, and cut off his hand… he put a tiny, wrinkled thing into the potion, and I can remember praying to God it would drown. It didn't. It rose up, and it was… it had turned into…" Harry couldn't remember it being this hard when he explained it to Dumbledore. That night, he had just started talking and it all had poured out. Why was it so hard now?  
  
"You guys, I think I'm wiped out for the night. I'm going to go to bed. Goodnight." Harry left his two best friends, one with her hands covering her mouth, the other staring after him with his jaw wide open. He needed rest.  
  
When he opened the door to his familiar dormitory, he first checked to make sure no one was there. Then he climbed into bed without even changing and just lay there for the longest time, trying not to think of anything. Even after Ron came in, quiet as a mouse, Harry lay there, just trying to block everything from his mind.  
  
Of course he was worried about Voldemort. That was just a given. He had actually seen Voldemort raise from a wrinkled nothing to stronger than he had been during his first rein of terror. All summer Harry had been having nightmares. His same old ones with his parents' voices, the bright flash of light, and high pitched laughter, but this time he actually saw his parents lying dead on the floor. Right next to them was Cedric, and Voldemort was standing over them. He had woken up each time in a cold sweat, shivering like he was mad. Of course he was worried!  
  
But then, Ron had mentioned he had looked off since school started. Harry thought back to the train ride. Had anything happened that would make him uneasy? Then he remembered - Malfoy. If Harry had been acting strangely, Malfoy had certainly been weird the past two months. He hadn't gone out of his way at all to make Harry's life miserable. It was strange. Harry wondered what could be wrong, because there obviously was something wrong.  
  
Rolling to his side, Harry resolved to not think about Malfoy tonight. He concentrated on having a dreamless sleep.  
  
Three hours later, he still hadn't claimed his goal. Harry got out of bed, put on his Invisibility cloak, and left Gryffindor Tower. He wasn't sure where he was going; he just had to get out.  
  
* * *  
  
Draco quietly entered the main doors to the castle. Sneaking out was always so easy for him. It was sneaking back in that was difficult. Too much confidence. He had already snuck out; sneaking in should be easier, right? Wrong. He tiptoed slowly and softly across the seemingly empty hall, careful not to make a sound, until he crashed into something directly in his path and tumbled to the floor. When he glanced up to see what he had bumped into, he saw Potter's head floating inches from the stone. Draco yelled out involuntarily.  
  
"What the bloody hell is going on in here?"  
  
* * *  
  
It was Harry's fault, really. He should have been paying more attention, but his mind was still upstairs, pondering over Voldemort and Malfoy. So, because he wasn't paying attention to where he was going, he didn't see Malfoy right in front of him. They collided and hit the floor. Harry felt the cloak slip off his head. Malfoy shouted, and then a voice behind Harry made his stomach drop to his knees.  
  
"What the bloody hell is going on in here?" Filch's wheezing voice filled the entrance hall, and Harry couldn't move. He had been caught, and with his Invisibility cloak to add to the strange scene. He quickly shrugged off the cloak and sat on it, hoping Filch hadn't seen.  
  
Malfoy's eyes left Harry and glanced up at Filch before sinking to the floor again.  
  
"Well, well, well, boys, thought we'd have ourselves a little duel, eh? Thought we could get away with some fighting in the corridors at midnight? Ha! How soon you underestimate the intelligence of Argus Filch! No, you definitely will not get away with this one. Follow me, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter." Filch descended the stone steps to the dungeons, Harry and Draco shoving each other to go after him. Finally they gave up after a death glare from Filch and slumped their shoulders, both knowing they were to blame.  
  
Filch directed them to two chairs in front of his desk when they entered his office. The familiar chains hung behind it, but Filch went straight to his filing cabinet of delinquents. "Let's see," he muttered, "where I put those files…" Filch straightened a moment later, triumphantly holding up two file folders. "Found them!" he grinned sardonically. Harry groaned.  
  
Taking two pieces of paper out of his desk, he began to fill them out.  
  
"Name… hmm, who shall be my first victim? How about Mr. Potter? Yes, that will do. Crime… out of bed after curfew, fighting in the corridors…"  
  
"Mr. Filch, if it's any help to our case whatsoever, Potter and I were not fighting. Yes, we were out of bed with absolutely no reason, but we just happened to bump into each other in the hall. I know it seems unbelievable, given out history, but I swear on the life of Mrs. Norris that we were not fighting!" Draco pleaded.  
  
Now, no one in their right minds would ever speak of Mrs. Norris the way Draco just had, and Filch knew it. Maybe that's why he went so easy on them; maybe he knew something they didn't. Either way, Filch only gave them detention and sent them off to bed with a "And don't let me catch you in the halls again or you will be out of here so fast…" Draco and Harry didn't stick around to hear the end of the threat.  
  
They walked in silence, neither taking their eyes off the stone floor, when they reached the steps to the entrance hall. Harry stopped and turned to face Draco.  
  
"Why did you do that?" he asked. Draco looked at him blankly.  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Why did you just save both of our faces in Filch's office? 'I swear on the life of Mrs. Norris that we were not fighting' Why did you say that? You wouldn't have gotten in as much trouble as I, you have free rein around here, what with your dad and all, and Filch has had it out for me ever since our first year. Why did you do that?"  
  
Draco thought for a moment. Harry could see he was trying to come up with something. His brow was furrowed, his eyes staring at nothing in particular, and his head was cocked to one side. Finally, he looked up at Harry.  
  
"Sometimes, Potter, you are worth saving." Draco turned on his heel and retraced his steps to the Slytherin dorms. Harry stared after him. He could make neither heads nor tails of the cryptic explanation. Confused, Harry made his way to his own dorms and fell fast asleep, dreaming of nothing in particular for the first time all summer. 


	5. three: Never Bothered You Before

Chapter Three  
*~*~*  
You're always talking bad to me  
You won't let it be  
Won't you touch me, touch me?  
Never bothered you before  
~Touch, Peel, and Stand by Days of Da New~  
*~*~*  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way to breakfast a little late the next day because Harry had slept in a bit. Ron and Hermione kept shooting furtive glances at each other.  
  
"We better fly through breakfast, we only have 15 minutes to get to Transfiguration!" Hermione said anxiously. Harry barely heard her. Though he had had a perfectly dreamless sleep the night before, he still felt light-headed and weary.  
  
Hermione was looking at Harry strangely. "Harry, did you sneak out last night?" she asked out of the blue. He looked up at her in surprise, but his face gave it away before he could say anything. "Oh Harry, no wonder why you look so beat up! Was there a reason? You know you shouldn't be wandering the castle alone at night with You-Know-Who back. It's just not safe!" Hermione scolded as they sat down.  
  
"Hermione, we're at Hogwarts, he's safe!" Ron said through a mouthful of waffles.  
  
"Gee Ron, thanks for your consideration!" Harry joked. He smiled, a rather forced smile, but it put Hermione at ease. I have to start acting normally again, he thought. Then again, how do you act normal when the most powerful Dark wizard of the time is after your hide?  
  
"Mail's here!" Harry heard Seamus exclaim, and looked up. Hundreds of owls soared into the Great Hall to deliver mail to their owners. His eyes darting around, he saw Hedwig flying towards him, a letter in her beak. Harry was happy she had brought him something. When she landed, she had barely enough time to move out of the way before two brown owls landed right on top of his plate and dropped two more letters into his lap.  
  
"Harry, where's all the mail coming from? You never get mail!" Dean yelled from down the table.   
  
Ron smirked. "Maybe Harry's got a secret admirer."  
  
Harry laughed with the rest of them as he opened Hedwig's letter. It was from Hagrid. "He wants to know if we'd like to have tea with him this afternoon, since we have no classes," Harry read to his friends. Hermione nodded briskly.  
  
Harry opened up his second letter. It was from Sirius and Remus!  
  
"Guys, look at this!" he whispered. Hermione and Ron leaning over him, they all read the letter.  
  
Dear Harry (and Ron and Hermione over his shoulder),  
-Sirius has gone back into hiding, no need to worry, because I know you will. The night Sirius came to me with Dumbledore's request, we set out. That's why you haven't heard from Sirius in a while.  
+I wanted to write you, Harry, but Remus thought it would be dangerous.  
-Well, of course it would be dangerous! We had to gather up the "old crowd". It was quite a job, as they decided to scatter immediately after Hogwarts. But now that we're all safely back at my humble abode, we'll be keeping in close contact.  
+Humble abode?  
-Do you want to write this letter? There, he's walking away. Sirius has been a little on the edgy side since the Tournament, I'm sure you understand why. The truth is, he's worried about you Harry, and frankly, I am too. I know you have a tendency to sneak out with the aid of a few of your father's old school items, but you must promise-  
+Harry, I want your WORD you will not… well, you won't… that you won't be like your father and Remus and I were back in school. I don't need you getting killed.  
-Yes Sirius, very comforting. Nice job, godfather. But Harry, he has a point. You can't be up to your old tricks. Write back, and promise us you won't do anything, well… stupid.  
  
Yours,  
Remus  
and Sirius  
  
"Harry, you see? You can't be sneaking out, you just can't. Sirius and Lupin know how safe Hogwarts is, and even they're worried. Please, promise them. And me." Hermione gently took the letter from Harry's hands. "Please?"  
  
"Alright Hermione, no need to twist my arm right off. I promise, no more midnight strolls."  
  
Harry turned to his third letter and opened it, his happiness from hearing from Sirius fading quickly. It was from McGonagall. He was to serve his detention that night.  
  
"Detention? Harry, you didn't tell us you got caught! Really, didn't you have your cloak?" Ron chuckled at Harry finally getting caught. Harry really didn't want to get into it, so he started in on breakfast. Ron shrugged and continued to shovel food into his waiting mouth. Hermione left for transfiguration early, visibly disgusted.  
  
* * *  
  
At eight o'clock that night, Harry said goodbye to Ron and Hermione and headed to McGonagall's room for his detention. When he got there, Malfoy was already waiting, a scowl pasted on his face. They saw each other at the same time, and spoke.  
  
"I have to serve my detention with you?!"  
  
"Ah, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, you're both here. Good, I wish to get to bed. For your punishments for being out of bed, both of you are to sort out tomorrow's lesson plan. We'll be turning stuffed animals into their living counterparts, and I need each animal in a different category according to size and type. There are boxes in the closet to separate the piles. When you're done, you can go back to your respective dorms. And don't try leaving without finishing. I trust you both to complete your detention and I will be aware if you take an easy way out. Goodnight gentlemen. Oh, and by the way - no magic allowed." McGonagall closed the door behind her, leaving Harry and Draco still staring at each other.  
  
Harry sighed, realizing the faster they moved the sooner he could get back to bed. "Let's get started." But Draco was moving towards the door. "Where are you going?"  
  
"Listen, Potter. I am not staying here all night, sorting little teddy bears with you. Admit it, you won't jeopardize your grade, but that doesn't mean I have to stay. As I see it, you'll do it by yourself to avoid getting in even more trouble. I, on the other hand, am leaving." Draco turned the doorknob once, twice, and jiggled it. He turned, horrorstruck, to face Harry.  
  
"She locked us in!"   
  
Harry snickered. "Looks like you're not going anywhere tonight, Malfoy." He plopped down on the floor and started in on the human-size pile of stuffed animals. "Let's go. If you help, we can get this done twice as fast and get the hell out of here." Draco snorted, shaking his head.  
  
For the next five minutes, Harry sorted stuffed animals as Draco leaned against the far wall, watching. Harry was fuming. This detention was as much Malfoy's as it was his! Why should he do all the work?  
  
"What's wrong, Potter?" Draco sneered suddenly. "You look like you could rip the heads off one of those poor, defenseless animals."  
  
"I just don't see why I am stuck doing this all by myself, that's all. There must be over a hundred animals in this pile! It'll take me all night, and you can't leave until I'm done! Why make me do it all and waste time that we could be as far away from each other as possible?" Harry threw down an animal and glared up at Draco. To his surprise, Draco was looking down at him with consideration and respect painted on his pale face. And then, just when Harry thought Draco had gone insane, the blonde boy came and sat down on the floor next to Harry, almost giving him a heart attack.  
  
"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Harry asked incredulously.  
  
"You told me to help you! I'm helping you. Lord, Potter, make up your mind." Draco sorted some animals, and looked up at Harry, who was still staring at him in shock. "What?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing…" Harry mumbled, and continued sorting. In reality, it was something that caught his attention. Something big.  
  
Harry had heard, when Draco was speaking, a hint of benevolence in his voice. Benevolence! From Draco Malfoy! Harry was right confused now.  
  
"Really, Potter, what is bloody wrong with you! You keep spacing out, after you told me this would go faster if we both worked. What's up?" This time there was no scorn in his voice, just mild - albeit, VERY mild - concern. Harry, eyes wide, looked at Draco.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. Fear flitted across Draco's features, then returned to his normal scowl.   
  
"Why wouldn't I be?" he shot.  
  
"Well, you seem… odd. Not like your usual self. You seem… nice."  
  
Draco stared at Harry. "Nice?" he repeated. Harry nodded. "Well, I'm not, okay? I'm just feeling a bit… light-headed, is all."   
  
Harry and Draco went back to sorting, and all was quiet for a good fifteen minutes before something hard, yet plush hit the back of Harry's head with force.  
  
"Ow! What was that for?" he yelled at Draco, who was holding a blue elephant in his right hand.  
  
"Target practice," he said, smiling. It wasn't a sneer, or a smirk, but a real smile. Harry's insides froze. He'd seen that smile once before. Where? Harry thought as Draco got back to sorting. That odd, corners upturned, eyes uncrinkled, sincere smile was stuck in his memory. From where?  
  
And suddenly it came to him… Hermione. That was the smile Hermione granted to Ron only. But Hermione loved Ron. So that would mean… but no, it couldn't… he must be mistaken, somehow!  
  
"Potter! I swear, if you don't start helping me, I'll curse you with the worse hex I know of!" Harry snapped back into reality. Draco was glaring at him once again. The smile was gone. Harry was beginning to think he imagined it, as he started back in on the pile, when he looked over at Draco again. Their eyes met, and Harry saw a rare tenderness mixed with denial in his earnest eyes. Harry gasped. The look was gone. Harry was beginning to think he was going insane.  
  
"Listen, if you are having some sort of breakdown, please wait until after this detention so I don't get seriously hurt by your mental instability, alright?" Draco rolled his eyes. Harry wondered how his words could mask such confusion within.  
  
"Malfoy?" Harry asked quietly. Draco looked up.  
  
"What do you want, Harry?" Harry?  
  
"What's wrong with you?"  
  
"What do you mean, what's wrong with me? You're the one suffering from some severe mental illness, remember."  
  
"Your eyes, they're…"  
  
"My eyes? Potter, are you gazing love struck into my eyes again?" Draco scoffed. Harry shook his head.  
  
"No… are you?"  
  
Draco looked extremely confused, yet vaguely afraid. "What?"  
  
"Are you okay? Is there something you… you wish to fill me in on?" Please let it be a prank, Harry wished. Please let him be sick, or insane. Please let me be wrong!  
  
"Where… I mean, wha… what do you mean?" Draco muttered. For as long as Harry had known him, he had never heard Malfoy stumble over his words. That had to be a bad sign.  
  
Harry took a deep breath. "You just smiled at me a moment ago, the same kind of smile that… that Hermione gives Ron. And your eyes… they seemed to be hiding something. Trust me, I know, I do it enough. So, I ask you - are you okay?"  
  
Draco stared at Harry for a full minute. Harry couldn't read the expression on his face. Without warning, Draco turned suddenly and started sorting stuffed animals again. Harry sighed inwardly and did the same.  
  
After half an hour, when Harry was beginning to think he was in a bad dream, a voice from beside him nearly made him jump out of his skin.  
  
"You really want to know what's wrong, Potter?" Draco asked quietly. Harry turned to see him staring intently back. He nodded.  
  
"Well… first of all, you have to understand something about me. My father is a very important person, both in the ministry and in my life. I have hero-worshipped my father for as long as I've been living. He may not be the best role model, but he's all I've ever had. He's always relished the fact that I follow his every move. When I was a child, he was very insistent of how I should act, where I should go, what I should say, whom I should associate with. Most of my words and opinions came straight from my father, and I suppose it's a habit now. I don't think a lot of things for myself, because my father always told me what to think. Take you, for instance. Part of the reason I always hated you so much is because my father told me to, imprinting the words into my brain all through my childhood.   
  
"As much as he controlled my life, and still does, I love my father dearly. I would never want to do anything to cause him harm, pain, or grief. So, I act the way he wants me to. In a way, I need him to be proud of me so he can relax. He's a frantic man, my father. So I took his controlling nature in stride.  
  
"The one thing, though, that he could never control was how I felt about things deep down. My opinions and most thoughts were his, yes, but in my heart I felt things so much more than anyone else, partly because I never got to express those feelings. Some were love, mostly for my father. But he has never had control of my feelings, and because I don't really know how to live my own life, I've never had control of them either. I usually let a thought or feeling run it's course, and eventually it will fade. But lately, there's been a feeling I just can't hide. An impulse of sorts, if you will. I can't pretend it's not there, as hard as I try. I can't just wait until it goes away. And it's eating me up inside, because it goes against everything my father ever taught me." Draco stopped and took a great breath.  
  
"The feelings are for a person, a person who I would have never thought possible. Yet I find myself more intrigued by them every day. I can't relax, but I can't tell anyone either. No one would understand.  
  
"So, do you see now? I've been so off and edgy lately because I'm preoccupied with trying to wipe myself clean of all feelings, not just this one. And maybe, with all the background information, you can understand a bit better why I'm such a git."  
  
Harry stared at Draco, amazed. Draco was normal. He had an overbearing father that chalked up his jerkiness. He was, and Harry hated to admit it, human after all.  
  
They worked a little more, the silence not so tense. They were almost done when Harry looked up once more.  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Who's the person you've fallen for?" Harry was genuinely curious. He just hoped beyond hope his guess wasn't correct…  
  
"Trust me, you don't want to know."  
  
"Yes I do."  
  
"No, Golden Boy, you don't."  
  
"Don't call me that."  
  
"Don't pretend to have empathy for me."  
  
"I'm not pretending!"  
  
"Then don't pity me."  
  
"It's not pity!"  
  
"Sure, make me your new charity case, what do I care?"  
  
"Lord, Draco, who is it?"  
  
"You!"  
  
Harry stared at him in shocked silence. It was one thing to think it, having the thoughts chase each other around in your head. It was another to hear your worst fears confirmed. He couldn't think of anything to say in response. He just stared. Draco stared back, red creeping up his pale face.  
  
"Happy now?" Draco got up and calmly (although he didn't feel too calm) walked out of the room. Harry looked down at the pile of stuffed animals. It was gone. 


	6. four: But I Do Love You

Chapter Four  
*~*~*  
I don't like to be alone in the night  
And I don't like to hear I'm wrong when I'm right  
And I don't like to have the rain on my shoes  
But I do love you  
~But I Do Love You by Leanne Rhymes~  
*~*~*  
  
Harry spent the next week avoiding Draco. It wasn't exactly hard, since Draco seemed to be doing the same thing. Potions was particularly like hell lately, and Harry couldn't wait to get out of the stuffy dungeon classroom and into the open Great Hall. He hadn't told Ron or Hermione about his detention, though they had asked a few times. He felt almost ashamed that another boy had a crush on him. Not like he himself had control over it, but still.  
  
Hermione leaned over the pots of herbs their Herbology class was tending that week. "Harry, you've been so much quieter and more subdued since your detention. Did Malfoy beat you up or something?" Harry shuddered involuntarily, knowing that he did much worse.  
  
"Hermione, I really don't want to talk about it."  
  
"It's not healthy for you to keep things in like this! You have a lot of stress. You have to talk about stuff, or it'll build up inside you! That's what made a lot of wizards turn Dark, you know."  
  
Harry looked around. They were in a far corner. Ron was even across the room, because he had been paired up with Neville. Harry looked back at Hermione, and took a deep breath. "You really want to know what happened?" She nodded.  
  
"Malfoy and I had a little… chat. He told me some things I never knew… well, let's just say he's not the guy we had him pinned as."  
  
Hermione's eyes widened. "What'd he tell you?" she whispered.  
  
"Stuff about how his father has always thought for him, spoke for him, lived for him. And how he's never had control of his feelings before, and now there's this one that's killing him inside…"  
  
"He told you all this?" Hermione asked in awe.   
  
"What, you think he'd lie about something like this? You don't think he'd tell me?" Harry snapped. He was suddenly feeling more protective of Malfoy.  
  
"Harry, calm down! I didn't mean anything by it, I swear." Hermione looked at Harry warily. He took a deep breath, and nodded. "What's this one feeling?  
  
"He, ah… he has feelings for someone that he definitely should not have feelings for."  
  
"Really? Who?"  
  
Harry didn't know if he should tell her, but the look on her face convinced him that he could trust her.  
  
"Me."  
  
Hermione burst out laughing, drawing the attention of the rest of the class. "Sorry!" she gasped. "Funny joke." Turning back to Harry, eyes wide once again, she swallowed her laughter when she saw the look on his face.  
  
"Are you kidding me?"  
  
"Really Hermione, would I joke about something like this?"  
  
Hermione frowned. "I suppose not. But why would he say something like that?" Harry shrugged.  
  
"Well, what are you going to do about it?" she asked. Harry choked.  
  
"What do you mean, do about it? Are you suggesting I…"  
  
"What? No! No, Harry, but you can't just leave Malfoy hanging like that. He told you something serious. I doubt it was a joke. Not even he would joke about something like that. And if he is telling the truth, he is still a person that just let his innermost feelings out in the open to be ridiculed. You can't just ignore him. You have to set him straight, one way or the other."  
  
"One way or the other? Really Hermione, do you want me to start dating him or something?"  
  
"Harry, you know what I mean! You know," she said, staring off out the window, "I bet there's a lot of stuff we don't know about Malfoy. Maybe if someone took the time to find out, he wouldn't be such a dunderhead." Hermione smiled a bit and returned to their herbs, leaving Harry to think.  
  
There was a lot they didn't know about Malfoy. Heck, there was a lot Malfoy didn't know about Malfoy. What he needed was a friend to help him figure it out. As much as Harry hated to admit it, Hermione was right. Malfoy was looking less like the jerk who had tortured them for six years, and more like a person in need of guidance and courage.  
  
Harry and Hermione whispered all throughout Herbology until it was time to leave the greenhouse and make their way across the lawns to Hagrid's hut. Of course, the arrival of a new class meant the Slytherins once again, and it was time for Harry to put his newly formed plan into action.  
  
Harry waited with Ron and Hermione around Hagrid's front door until he saw the Slytherins coming over the hill and down the lawn. Once they joined the rest of the class, Harry ran over to Malfoy.  
  
"Hey, could I talk to you for a second?" Malfoy looked ready to curse Harry, but didn't argue. Harry pulled him away from the class' hearing range. The rest of the Slytherins stared at Harry's courage.  
  
"What do you want?" Draco sneered.  
  
"Listen, I know we haven't said two words to each other for the past week, but I think it's time I said something." Draco just stared him down. "I… I want to be your friend."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Above the whole… feelings thing, you need a real friend Malfoy. You need someone to help you realize who you are and stand up to your father. I want to help you."  
  
"Potter, I don't need your help. I like who I am now just fine, thank you very much. And about what I said during our detention, I was just delirious or something. Not enough sleep, too much dinner, vice versa, whichever. Don't take it personally."  
  
Draco started to walk back to class, but turned and looked Harry right in the eye. He saw a trace of what he'd seen that night, but it was soon gone. "Really, Potter, who's got a crush on who? I think you need to get your feelings in check before you try this again." Harry was left staring after him.  
  
Malfoy had just suggested that Harry liked him! It was absurd! But then, Harry thought as he made his way back to class, if I don't like him, why did I try to help him? The thought turned his stomach, and he ignored Draco for the rest of class.  
  
* * *  
  
Draco sunk into an armchair in a corner of the Slytherin common room. He had had a very long day.  
  
"Hey Draco, you coming to dinner?" Crabbe asked from the doorway.   
  
"Not tonight boys. Go ahead without me. I need some sleep, I think."  
  
Crabbe and Goyle grunted in response and left for dinner. Now Draco would have a good hour and a half before they came back. They were such pigs.  
  
Glancing around to make sure no one was left, he got up and made his way to the staircase leading to his room. He wasn't prepared to find someone waiting outside of it.  
  
"Draco!" Pansy exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck; he groaned inwardly.  
  
"Yes, hello Pansy…" he replied.  
  
"I was wondering when you'd come upstairs. Do you want to go for a walk around the lake with me?"  
  
"Why aren't you at dinner?" he asked, ignoring her proposal.  
  
"Because you weren't down there, and I want to be with you, silly!" she cried out, grabbing his hand. Suddenly, he had an idea. If this couldn't get him to stop thinking about Potter, nothing could.  
  
"Hey, Pansy…" he said slowly. She looked at him. "What's say you and me skip the walk?" Pansy raised her eyebrows.  
  
"But Draco… I thought you said we had to stop that. I thought you said I made you sick. I thought you said I was the worst you've ever had. I thought-"  
  
"Pansy, forget what I said. Come on, I'm feeling daring." Opening his door, he pulled her inside and locked it. He had told Crabbe and Goyle he needed to sleep, anyhow… 


	7. five: So I Need You

Chapter Five  
*~*~*  
If you could step into my head, tell me would you still know me?  
And if you woke up in my bed, tell me would you hold me?  
Or would you simply let it lie  
And then leave me to wonder why?  
~So I Need You by Three Doors Down~  
*~*~*  
  
Potions the next day was less than bearable. Snape was in a particularly vicious mood, and continued taking points from Gryffindor. Draco, needless to say, helped.  
  
"Professor?" Draco called out halfway through the class. "Professor, didn't you specifically say only three salamander tails would suffice?" Snape glided over to the table where Draco was stuck working with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Did they never split up?  
  
"Yes Mr. Malfoy, I believe I did. Why?" he asked, his malicious eyes glaring at Harry. Draco smirked.  
  
"You see, Professor," he started, staring at the Golden Boy also, "Potter here decided to add four to his potion. I thought that would sour the potion, sir." He flipped through his notes for added effect. "Yes, it says right here, a mistake with the salamander tails will ruin the potion." Then Draco sat back and watched the drama unfold.  
  
"Mr. Potter, just because everyone in this school fancies you a hero, does not mean you can get away with murder in my class." Snape thought for a moment, the corners of his mouth upturning into a sadistic smile. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor, and let that be a reminder next time you decide to let your attention wander in my class."  
  
Weasley, who had to sit next to Draco, bore holes into his head as he worked diligently on his potion, resisting the urge to burst out laughing. Across the table, Hermione and Harry were whispering.  
  
* * *  
  
"Hermione, I swear, it was only three. I know I added three!"   
  
"Harry, count your tails." He counted; there was only one left out of his original five.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Harry, are you all right? You haven't been yourself lately."  
  
Harry glanced across the table to where Malfoy sat, working on his potion. He didn't look up, but his face portrayed a sort of half smile. Harry looked away. "I'm fine, just a bit… preoccupied."   
  
Hermione followed Harry's eyes, and leaned even closer so no one could hear what she was about to say. "Harry, this… ah… preoccupation doesn't have anything to do with Malfoy, does it?" Harry's head snapped up.  
  
"Of course not! Why would you think that I would willingly… that I could ever think… that it would be possible for me to…" Harry faltered, unable to find the words. "Hermione, I'm just having a bad day."  
  
"Did you ever talk to him like I said?" she asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And…"  
  
"And nothing happened. He acted like Malfoy! I offered him my friendship, and he refused. He accused me of… of less than honorable intentions," Harry skirted around the real accusation, "and walked away before I could mumble another word. I tried Hermione, but there's just no talking to him!"  
  
Hermione sighed. "Harry, did you ever stop to think he might be sore with you?"  
  
Harry glared at Hermione. "What on earth did I ever do to him to make him sore with me?"  
  
"He tried the same thing when you two first met, and you refused. Don't you remember? He's just giving you a taste of your own medicine."  
  
"Really Hermione, who's side are you on?" And that was the end of the conversation. They finished their potions, cleaned their equipment, and waited for Snape to dismiss the class. Harry sat with Ron and Hermione for a bit, trying to just hang around, but his head was too clouded to work properly. He needed to fly, to clear his head. His last class for the day was Astronomy, but that wasn't until midnight. Waving bye to Ron and Hermione in the common room, Harry headed out to the Quidditch pitch. He had some thinking to do.   
  
Darkness had just fallen when Harry walked out onto the Quidditch pitch ten minutes later. He almost cried aloud in frustration. Someone was already flying high above the stands. The flyer took a sharp turn, and Harry thought he saw a glint of silver hair in the fresh moonlight. He swore under his breath, realizing whom it was.  
  
"Malfoy…"  
  
* * *  
  
Draco wasn't sure how long he had been flying. All he knew was things had never made so much sense. These feelings had never been more understood. His father had never seemed so weak, and Potter had never been more enticing…  
  
Potter was the reason he was out here in the first place. Draco always flew when things troubled him, and this thing with the Golden Boy was troubling. Draco couldn't decide what he was angrier about: his feelings towards Potter, or the hand of friendship he had been offered. "I suppose it makes no difference," Draco mused aloud, "as Father will have a coronary if he ever finds out."  
  
Although why his father would be angry, Draco wasn't entirely sure. It was completely normal in the wizarding world to harbor same-sex tendencies. Draco chuckled. Same sex tendencies. Wizards couldn't handle werewolves but found homosexuals completely natural. It was odd.  
  
And then there was the matter of this particular wizard Draco had bestowed his admiration upon. Out of all the wizards in all the world, Draco had chosen the famous Boy Who Lived. Not a bad choice, mind you. He was certain he couldn't be the only person with eyes for the Golden Boy. After all, Potter was famous, smart, humble, loyal, dashing, fantastic at Quidditch, and had the most amazing eyes Draco had ever seen. It was a miracle people didn't swoon at the mention of his name.  
  
But he was getting carried away. Draco took a sharp turn to knock some sense into him, and saw in the moonlight a silhouette standing at the entrance to the field. For a fleeting moment, Draco thought it was a teacher. But when he saw a broomstick held precariously over the shadow's shoulder, he realized it must have been a student. Draco flew a little closer and noticed the specific student it was - Potter.   
  
He wasn't moving, so Draco flew down and landed softly on the grass in front of him. Harry gasped slightly and took an involuntary step back. Draco smirked.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he fumed. Draco's smirk widened.  
  
"It's a free country, Potter. I can fly when I want, where I want." Draco knew he was pushing the other boy's limits - he was sure Potter had had enough of him for one day - but he couldn't help himself. "Are you man enough to handle that?"  
  
* * *  
  
Harry stared. Man enough to handle it? What was Malfoy playing at? Just trying to get me to back off, no doubt, Harry thought. Then he had an idea. Without so much as a glance at the other boy, Harry had mounted his broom and was hovering just about Draco's head.  
  
"Potter, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Draco shouted. Harry laughed.  
  
"Just thought you might be up to a little friendly competition. What's the matter Malfoy? Aren't you man enough to handle it?"  
  
Draco sneered at having his words thrown back in his face. Within a second, Draco was on his broom and the two boys were flying high, circling one another in the air.  
  
"Gotten worse over the summer I see," Harry called, but really the opposite was true. Draco had gotten better - a lot better. Harry would have to work harder this year to beat him at Quidditch.  
  
"Potter, don't waste time on mindless chatter; let's play." Draco stopped and hovered, reaching inside his pocket and withdrawing a small ball of light. "It's an Enchanted Snitch. It has a homing charm - you can't possibly lose it. And I added the light spell to see it in the dark." Draco held it in the palm of his hand and it flew off. Harry was surprised. "So, what are you waiting for? Let's go. Loser kisses Snape in front of the whole Potions class tomorrow!" Harry, knowing it had to be a joke - right? - followed.  
  
For a good hour and a half, Draco and Harry looked for the Snitch. Sometimes one would throw a comment at the other, but they were both too preoccupied to really hate the other. Finally, Harry started to get tired.  
  
"Malfoy, we're never going to find the Snitch tonight. Let's call it quits, okay?" Draco looped up and around Harry, pulling his broom steady in front of him. Harry gasped.  
  
"What's the matter, afraid you'll lose?" Draco sneered. Harry laughed.  
  
"You wish."  
  
They flew for a bit more, when Draco yelled out across the stadium. "Hey, Potter!" Harry looked over.  
  
"Just play, Malfoy. No 'mindless chatter'!"  
  
Draco smiled, though in the darkness Harry couldn't see it. "Well for once, Golden Boy, I have a legitimate question to ask you." He flew closer to Harry. "Did you mean what you said the other day? About wanting to be my friend?" Harry almost collided with one of the goal posts; Draco laughed and made a sharp turn through one of the holes. Harry followed.  
  
"Of… oomph… Of course I did. I wouldn't say that if I didn't mean it."  
  
Draco turned around to look Harry in the eye. "But why? We've no less than wanted each other dead for the past four years. Why do you suddenly want to be my friend?" Harry raised an eyebrow and cut Draco off. He choked back a laugh. "It's not as if I'm considering it or anything. I just want to know."  
  
"Right. Sure, Malfoy. You know, Hermione said that maybe you're reluctant to accept because I refused your friendship when we met, remember?"  
  
Draco snorted. "Granger thinks she knows it all, doesn't she? And… wait. I am not reluctant!" For the first time in his life, Draco was dead sure about what he wanted. He just wasn't sure he wanted to be sure.  
  
"So, you accept then?"  
  
"I never said that either!"  
  
"Really Draco, I thought you were so much more articulate that this."  
  
"Oh Harry, it's just around you I get so flustered." Harry laughed.  
  
"You… you think that's funny?" Draco asked uncertainly.  
  
"You know Draco, I'm not scared off by your testimony of desire."  
  
"Testimony of what?"  
  
"Seriously. When we served out detention, I admit I was a bit freaked by what you told me, but I've gotten used to it. I talked it over with Hermione-"  
  
"Her again!"  
  
"-And decided that it doesn't spook me. Sorry, as much as you must want it to, it doesn't. It was a good thing you told me about your, ah… feelings."  
  
"Don't tell me you're returning them Potter!" Draco scoffed. Inside though, his stomach flipped.  
  
"No! I mean, well, I don't know… Listen, I'm offering friendship here! Why can't you be a big boy and accept?"  
  
"Why do you want me to so much?" Draco asked.  
  
"Because… well, it think we both need this friendship. And lord knows Dumbledore will approve. 'Friendship between houses? Splendid!'" Harry mimicked. Draco had never heard Harry mock the Headmaster before. True, he never had before. Draco suddenly felt respect towards his dark haired rival.  
  
"All right, Potter, let's just say I accept this. I don't think our friends will jump at this sudden pact between us."  
  
Harry thought for a moment. That was true. Hermione might have pushed him to this point, but Ron wouldn't see eye to eye. And he doubted whether the rest of his friends would be thrilled about him befriending a Slytherin, and a Malfoy no less!  
  
"Well… we don't have to become all buddy-buddy right away. We can ease into a friendship. I think it might be easier on our own immune systems as well."  
  
Draco nodded and smiled. "Do you think this will curb my 'desire', as you so lovingly nicknamed it?" He laughed.  
  
"Come on Draco. One step at a time, shall we?" They flew around for a bit more before, tired and sweating, decided to call their impromptu practice a night. They both landed softly on the grass and started walking up the slopes to the castle.   
  
"So Potter, how do you suppose we go about 'easing into' this friendship?" Draco asked suddenly. Harry thought.  
  
"Well, calling me Harry instead of Potter couldn't hurt."  
  
"Alright Harry, what else?"  
  
"Maybe laying off of the teasing? From both houses, I promise." Harry stopped walking and held out his hand. "Is this a deal?"  
  
Draco looked at the Gryffindor's outstretched hand. He knew better than to expect a trick; he could tell by those dazzling emerald eyes that Harry's intentions were honorable. He grasped Harry's hand.  
  
"Deal, Golden Boy."  
  
"No calling me Golden Boy either!"  
  
"Oh, but that just takes all the fun out of it!"  
  
"Well, find some other way to have fun then." Harry's eyes sparkled with the joke. Draco took a step closer.  
  
"Hmmm, that'll be hard with you as my new friend, I'd wager…" Draco smiled, a true smile. He could see Harry start to blush. It was actually quite endearing. Then, he felt something wrong - he, Draco, was blushing as well!  
  
Draco turned a bit away from Harry and looked up at the moon. "It's almost midnight," he remarked softly. Harry looked up too, though he had no talent for telling time from the moon.  
  
"Midnight?" he exclaimed. Draco nodded. "Oh no, I've got Astronomy tonight! Draco, I've got to go! I'll - I'll see you tomorrow?"  
  
"Sure, Golden Boy," Draco answered, pouting slightly. "Leave me in my time of need."  
  
"Draco!" Harry cried.  
  
"I'm just joking, Harry! Go to class; I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
Harry looked calmer as he began to run back to the castle, but faltered when he heard Draco's voice.  
  
"Hey Harry!"  
  
Harry turned. "Yeah?"  
  
Draco looked at the ground; he looked at the moon; his broom; anywhere but Harry's eyes.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning, Harry awoke to loud bickering coming from the common room. Rolling out of bed, he stumbled down the stairs to see Ron and Hermione standing at either ends of the common room, shouting furiously at each other. A few innocent first years caught in the crossfire were huddling in the corner.  
  
"I never said that, Hermione!"  
  
"Oh don't lie Ron, I see the way you look at her!"  
  
Harry groaned inwardly from his place amongst the shadows of the staircase. Perhaps it would be safer to hide here for now. They were fighting, yet again, about Annie, a particularly attractive girl in Ginny's year. Hermione thought Ron had a thing for her, and as it was quite common knowledge Annie doted on Ron, Hermione's concerns were not far off. But she did take it to the next extreme.  
  
"I did not grab her arse!"  
  
"I saw you!"  
  
Harry cleared his throat, and the two glanced at him briefly before continuing.  
  
"Listen to me Hermione, I am with you, why the hell would I want her?"  
  
Hermione seemed to be quieting down. "Because she's prettier than I am…" she mumbled. Ron sighed and crossed the room. The first years ran out through the portrait hole.  
  
"Oh, she is not. You're ten times more beautiful than what's-her-name. Isn't that right Harry?" Ron tried to comfort her, putting his arms around her and glaring meaningfully at towards the stairs.  
  
Harry nodded. "Oh, of course! Hermione, you're a radiant beauty. A regular Aphrodite."  
  
Hermione giggled. "Come on Harry, I know you're exaggerating a bit."  
  
"Well, maybe, but you never cared about stuff like appearances before. Hermione, Ron doesn't care about it either. Right?" Ron nodded feverishly. "I'm sure it was only a quick peek anyway. All the guys have." Ron blushed and looked down.  
  
"Have you, Harry?"  
  
"Um…" Harry thought about it. Sure, he thought Hermione was beautiful, in her own plain way, but he hadn't really considered any other girls' appearances after his thing with Cho. It was something to think about. "Yeah. Sure. She's pretty, I guess."  
  
Ron started to say "You guess?!" but shut up with a glance at Hermione. Harry laughed and went down to breakfast. 


	8. six: Little Plastic Castles

Chapter Six  
*~*~*  
Well look at you this morning  
You are, by far, the cutest  
But be careful getting coffee  
I think these people wanna shoot us  
Or maybe it's some kinda local competition  
To see who can be the rudest  
~Little Plastic Castles by Ani Difranco~  
*~*~*  
  
The next day, Harry stayed in a chair by the fireplace all morning. He had Quidditch Through The Ages lying open on his lap, but stared out the window instead.  
  
"Come on Harry, let's go see Hagrid."  
  
"No, you go." Ron had been trying to get him up all morning, but Harry refused to budge.   
  
"Come on mate, what's with you? You're acting really depressed, it's not very becoming." Ron sat down next to Harry and stared at him intently. "Is anything the matter?"  
  
Harry sighed, and turned from the window. "Ron…" he started, but stopped. He couldn't go on, he couldn't tell Ron what was troubling him. He couldn't tell him that he was worried the end was near; he was worried that all the times he had faced Voldemort and lived were leading him into a false sense of security, and he expected the Death Eaters to waltz in at any second and kill him. And by himself being in danger, he was putting all his friends in danger as well. Harry just couldn't seem to get over that fact.  
  
"Listen Harry… I understand you're worried. Well, not quite understand, but I get it. We all are. And it's normal, I promise. But you can't dwell. Why don't you go talk to Dumbledore, or Sirius, or someone? Talk to someone if not Hermione or me. Harry, something's not right with you, and you have to fix that." Ron stood up and pulled Harry reluctantly to his feet. "Go, go on. Off to Dumbledore with you." Harry sighed, knowing he couldn't fight with Ron, and walked out of the portrait hole.  
  
He knew what was wrong. And he had good reason. Why should he worry Dumbledore? Everyone looked to him for support and guidance, him and the old headmaster. Harry had been face to face with Voldemort before; if Harry was worried, everyone else had better be. Why worry them all?  
  
He did feel, though, that Ron had a point. He couldn't keep stewing over all this in his head; he needed to find someone to talk to. And then, a name popped up in his memory. Malfoy. But where would he be, and how would Harry get to him without arousing suspicion? In the end, he decided to try the Great Hall. When he walked through the doors, he breathed a great sigh of relief. The hall was almost empty, but sitting there by himself at the Slytherin table was Draco. Harry walked over.  
  
"Hi," he almost mumbled. Draco looked up and coughed out a carrot.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he asked.  
  
"I thought maybe… I could talk to you…" Harry looked down, suddenly embarrassed to be seeking help from his once-archenemy. Draco smiled.  
  
"Golden Boy has to ask the loner rich kid for advice? How darling!" But when Harry looked at him, Draco had a sincere smile on his face, and stood up. "Come on, let's go." Harry followed him out of the Great Hall and up about three flights of stairs before emerging in a hidden corridor.  
  
"Where are we?" he asked, but Draco shushed him and walked slowly down the hall, feeling the wall as he went. After almost ten minutes, Harry began to feel desperate. Just then, Draco let out a sharp "Aha!" and tapped a section of the wall three times with his wand. The wall seemed to melt away, revealing a hidden room. Draco led Harry inside.  
  
"How did you know this was here?" Harry questioned him as they sat across from each other at the table, one of the few furnishings in the room. Apart from the rickety table, there was a small couch and a sink. Nothing spectacular.  
  
"You're not the only one who goes wandering at midnight." Draco laughed. "So, what's up?"  
  
Harry looked at Draco across the table and felt himself blush. Now that they were there, it seemed rather foolish to have dragged him away to talk. But Draco looked at Harry expectantly, so he took a deep breath.  
  
"I'm… well, I'm scared," he started.  
  
"Scared? Why?" Draco didn't laugh, as Harry expected; he looked on with curiosity and mild concern. Harry continued.  
  
"Vol- I mean, You-Know-Who's getting stronger. I'm sure you know, what with your father being who he is and all..."  
  
"Potter, my father isn't as bad as everyone likes to think he is." Draco snapped.  
  
"Oh come off it Malfoy. Everyone knows he's a Death Eater, practically Voldemort's right-hand man!" Draco reeled; he'd never heard anyone except Albus Dumbledore sqy You-Know-Who's name out loud. Not even his father. "Why do you act like he's so perfect, anyway? Even you know he's not."  
  
"I thought you dragged me here to discuss you, Golden Boy, not my feelings about my father."  
  
Harry stood up. "Well, if you're going to be so touchy about it..."  
  
Draco sighed. "Potter, just keep talking. I'm listening, I swear."  
  
Harry eyed Draco, but the blonde boy seemed sincere. Harry shrugged - first time for everything. "Well... Its Voldemort. He'll be coming after me when he feels he has a sure chance to succeed. I don't care about myself, but I have close friends that could be an easy way to get to me. I… I'm scared for my friends. Ron, and Hermione, and Sirius… okay, maybe not so much Sirius, as he's safe in hiding, but Ron and Hermione are easy targets. If they get hurt, or killed…" Harry trailed off, relieved at finally being able to voice his growing concerns. He looked up at Draco.  
  
"First, a question," Draco started. "Sirius?"  
  
"Oh!" Harry hadn't realized that within his ramblings, he had given away the fact that he knew Sirius personally and where he was hiding. "Well, you see… I meant Sirius Black. He's my godfather." Harry stared at the floor, blushing. He hadn't meant to reveal that bit of knowledge, not to Draco Malfoy.  
  
Draco snorted. "But your parents!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Yes, well, the thing is that he never actually killed them. It's a long story, and he blames himself for their deaths, but he's no murderer. And I keep in contact with him, since he's so worried about my safety, being my godfather and all."  
  
Draco's eyebrows were just about blending in with his hairline, but he said nothing more on the matter. "Okay Harry. I think you need to listen to me. I understand you want to protect your friends. That is such a noble act, and you have no idea how much you already are protecting them. But you can't do it forever. They know the risks; if they care about you as much as they say they do, then they must know the risks involved. And yet, they're still around. I take it Weasley told you to talk to someone?" Harry nodded. "I thought as much. Do you see how much you mean to them? They're willing to risk everything just to stick by your side. That's true friendship. What I want you to worry about, Golden Boy, is your own hide. If you're always stressed over whether or not your friends are safe, you're making yourself an easier target than they are. Somehow, I think they'd be even more hurt if you got yourself killed. I know I certainly don't need you dying anytime soon." Draco smiled, and Harry felt his stomach and nerves immediately begin to calm. Then Draco reached up and patted Harry on the head like a child. "Feel better?" Harry laughed.  
  
"Somehow, Draco, you do make me feel better. I never thought that would be possible!"  
  
"No problem Harry. And, you know, I'm glad you came to talk to me." Draco stood up and stretched. "I take it this wasn't something you could talk about easily?" Harry shook his head. "Well then, I'm honored as well." Draco walked over to the couch and collapsed onto it. Looking around, he said, "I love Saturdays, don't you? Absolutely nothing to do and no one to bother you."  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression you loved being followed around by your goons and harem." Draco laughed.  
  
"Sometimes… but its good to have a mental health day once in a while. That's how I found this place - trying to escape. I come back sometimes. Whenever I need to get away… which has been a lot lately."  
  
"Aren't you afraid you'll get caught?" Harry asked.  
  
"Nah. McGonagall found me in here one day. She was angry, and I was having a bad day… remember the encounter we had in the hall a while back, when you were about to hit me? I came here afterward, and she could tell something was wrong, apparently. I explained a bit to her - not all of it - because I figured she'd leave me alone. She did, and told me I could come back here whenever I wanted. It was a nice surprise, her letting me some freedom, so I took advantage of it. And it's not like I'm breaking the rules or something."  
  
Harry thought about this. Draco needed a place to escape… Draco needed to get away from his loyal followers every once in a while… Draco was human… it was almost too much to take in.  
  
"You know Potter," he remarked suddenly, breaking Harry from his train of thought, "you are allowed to sit down." Harry then noticed he had been standing in the doorway, and made his way to the couch. "I don't bite," Draco added.  
  
Harry laughed. "Are you sure about that, Malfoy?"  
  
"Well… no." Draco smirked.  
  
* * *  
  
Later that afternoon, Harry went back to the common room. Ron was sitting in a chair by the fire, playing chess. Harry sat across from him, noticably more cheerful than that morning.  
  
"Ron, why are you playing chess by yourself?" Harry asked. Ron glanced around the room before turning back to Harry.  
  
"I'm not. I just finished a game with Hermione."  
  
Harry looked down at the board skeptically. "But Ron, there are still moves left. The game isn't done."  
  
Ron shushed him. "Sure, you and I know that, but she doesn't. I just tell her the game is over and she won, and she walks away all happy and radiant. It works out well for everyone."  
  
Harry chuckled and moved one of Hermione's pieces. "Except you. Can you just imagine how your reputation as chess master would go down the drain if people found out you were losing to Hermione, of all people?"  
  
"Somehow Harry," Ron said, as he moved his knight up to Harry's king, "I think they'll catch on. And check mate, by the way."  
  
Harry stared at the board. "Incredible..."  
  
Ron leaned back and sighed. "Still got it! So, where'd you go this morning, anyway?"  
  
Harry glanced up sharply. What could he say? He couldn't very well tell Ron where he had been, he'd never understand. "I took your advice and went to see Dumbledore. You're right, he helped." Ron raised an eyebrow.  
  
"You're sure Harry?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Positive, why?"  
  
"Because Dumbledore left early this morning for the Ministry of Magic, McGonagall told Hermione in the library this morning. Where were you, really?"  
  
Harry sighed. "I was… with a friend."  
  
"Come on Harry! I'm your best friend, you can tell me anything. Who were you with? Was it some girl, eh?"  
  
Harry almost laughed out loud. "No, I wasn't with some girl. I was with... uh... Malfoy."  
  
"Malfoy? Harry, you didn't get in a fight with him, did you? Because if you did, I'm ashamed. You could have come get me, you know! "  
  
"No, I didn't get in a fight with him..."  
  
"Get in a fight with who?" Hermione asked, pulling a chair over to their table and kissing Ron on the cheek.  
  
"Harry beat up Malfoy today," Ron told her.  
  
"I did not!" Harry insisted nervously.  
  
"Oh Harry, you were with Malfoy today? Did it go well?" Hermione asked, grinning.  
  
"How can it go well, Herm? It's Malfoy!" Ron asked, taken aback. Hermione just smiled and looked at Harry.  
  
"It went… well. You were right, Hermione. Draco sure is… well, Draco. I think we had a breakthrough."  
  
Meanwhile, Ron was staring at Harry and Hermione in turn, completely lost. "Okay, back up. Would someone please tell me what I missed? What are you talking about, Harry?" Harry gulped.  
  
"Ron… you know how Dumbledore is always saying we should try and create better bonds with our enemies, bridge the gap between houses, and just get along, what with You-Know-Who and all?" Harry started, nervously twirling a chess pawn in his hand.  
  
"Yeah… Oh Harry, you didn't!" Ron cried, jumping up.  
  
"It was Hermione's idea!" Harry retorted, pointing at his other best friend.   
  
Hermione gasped. "Harry!" She turned to Ron, desperate. "I just told him to be nicer, that's all!"  
  
Ron looked at Harry, then Hermione, and back at Harry again. "You didn't… you can't have… oh, Harry!" He turned to glare at Hermione. "And you approve? You suggested it?!"  
  
"Ron, the Headmaster's right, and Draco is in need of a friend or two right now. Just calm down, okay?"  
  
"I will not calm down!" he roared, and Hermione reeled back as if she'd been slapped. "I'm losing my best friend to my enemy, and my girlfriend is going right along with him!"  
  
"Ron, you aren't losing me, or Hermione. We're just trying to prepare ourselves for Voldemort!" Harry cried, jumping up as well. "Honestly." Ron just stared at Harry, then turned on his heel and stalked up to the dorm room. Harry turned to Hermione.  
  
"Well… that went better than I was expecting."  
  
Hermione smiled. "He'll get over it. Give him time, Harry. He's just a little… shocked. I mean, it is Malfoy. It'll all work out." Harry smiled and gave Hermione a hug. But before he could walk off after Ron, she grabbed his arm. "Oh, and Harry? When Ron calms down, could you maybe ask him to stop letting me win at chess? I feel like a fool every time." 


	9. seven: Do Re Me

Chapter Seven  
*~*~*  
Because I read the Want Ads every day  
And the headlines of the papers always say  
If you ain't got the do re me, boy  
If you ain't got the do re me  
You better go back to your beautiful Texas  
Oklahoma, Kansas, Georgia, Tennessee  
Do Re Me original lyrics by Woody Guthrie, my favorite version sung by Ani Difranco  
  
(Yeah, this song bit has nothing to do with the story, its just what I was listening to while writing this chapter)  
*~*~*  
  
A few weeks later, Ron had finally calmed down about the whole Malfoy thing. He'd made up with Harry. Hermione too, and they seemed to be getting on perfectly fine. For once.  
  
Ron entered the library quietly, looking around. She had to be in here somewhere. He crouched down a bit more. There, in a far corner in the back of the library, partially hidden behind a towering stack of books, Hermione sat studying. Ron could have laughed out loud. Exams were ages away, teachers hadn't even mentioned OWLs yet, but Hermione still studied diligently. To him, now that he finally accepted the thought, it was adorable.  
  
He crept up behind her soundlessly, determined not to give himself away. Soon Ron was kneeling directly behind her, but he had to hesitate a bit. He never knew she hummed when she studied. Smiling to himself, Ron slipped his arms around Hermione's waist and lightly kissed her cheek. It was almost a shame to disturb her, but as soon as she turned around and he saw her smile, it was worth it.  
  
"Ron!" she exclaimed, laughing. "You frightened me."  
  
"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it," Ron replied, sitting next to her and closing her book. "You're so tempting."  
  
"Ron, what are you doing?" Hermione asked, trying to sound stern, but still smiling wide. She opened her book back up.  
  
Ron closed it again. "Trying to spend time with my girlfriend."  
  
"But I have to study!"  
  
"Hermione, you're always studying!"  
  
"Ron…" Hermione sighed. He could see what was coming. Best to avoid her wrath at all costs.  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, or interrupt your studying. I'll just go now." Ron opened her book back up and stood, but Hermione grabbed his hand.  
  
"No. Not this time. Sit." He sat, somewhat hesitantly. "Maybe we should talk…"  
  
Ron looked at her. He could tell she was thinking hard about something; she was biting her lip, what she did when studying furiously.  
  
"Ron…"  
  
"Hermione…"  
  
Ron sighed. They wouldn't get anywhere this way. Someone had to talk first, but hell would freeze before he'd break the ice.  
  
Turns out, he didn't need to. "Ron, do you really think this will work?"  
  
"What's 'this', Hermione?"  
  
"This. Us. Together. You know how much I care about you Ron, but really - is this going to work? We're always fighting…"  
  
"Hermione!" Ron could see the pain in her eyes. She was damn near close to tears, and he could tell it was breaking her heart to say these things. "I don't want to hurt you. We can work on whatever may be wrong. We can both change, we'll be okay." He took hold of her hand, and Hermione smiled sadly. "I'll hold my tongue, and you can study less-"  
  
"You just don't get it, do you?!" she exploded, earning a glare from Madam Pince. Ron leaned back in surprise. "I have to study, schoolwork is important to me!"  
  
"Oh, and I'm not?" he responded quietly.  
  
She sighed and slowly withdrew her hand from his. "I never said that."  
  
"Then what are you saying? You know, I think you're the one who doesn't get it. You want me to take a backseat to your obsessive habits, and I refuse." Ron caught himself and paused. "Blimey Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." He tried to wipe away the tears that were falling freely now, but she skirted around his touch.  
  
"No Ron. I think you did mean it. But guess what? I mean this." Hermione stood up, gathered her books, and walked out without so much as a backward glance.  
  
* * *  
  
Across the castle from Ron and Hermione, Harry and Draco were arguing as well.  
  
"I'm telling you Potter, if it weren't for that stupid Voldemort scare, Bulgaria would've won the Cup!"  
  
"Draco, the Death Eaters attacked after the game. Give it up; Ireland just has the better team!"  
  
The boys had nicked some food from the kitchen and were now on their way back to "the dugout", as Harry fondly named Draco's secret room. This led Harry into an explanation of baseball and an American movie he'd once seen. Now they were arguing over the Quidditch Cup, and gathering blatant stares from students in the halls. Draco laughed at a comment Harry made about Viktor Krum, and a little first year scampered out of the way. Potter and Malfoy, enjoying each other's company, in public?  
  
"Listen Potter, let's call a truce," Draco muttered from behind a stack of food and books. Harry tapped the wall and ushered the other boy into the room. Draco dumped his load on the table.  
  
"Why, Malfoy? Tired of losing?"  
  
"No, Golden Boy - tired of fighting. Let's just face the fact," Draco added, falling down next to Harry on the couch, "that we will never agree on Quidditch."  
  
"Add it to the list!" Harry laughed. He reached over to the table and grabbed two pumpkin pasties. When he turned around to hand one to Draco, he found the other boy staring at him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't you find this the least bit odd?" Draco asked uncertainly.  
  
"What's odd?"  
  
"Potter and Malfoy, sitting on a couch, joking around, enjoying each other's company… as friends."  
  
Harry leaned back into the couch beside Draco and smiled. "I suppose. Do you wish it were different?"  
  
"No," he answered a little too quickly. Harry smiled wider.  
  
"Oh," he said.  
  
"What?" Draco retorted nervously.   
  
"I see. Because of your, well… situation, you're scared I'll decide this won't work out. Or I'll turn this around to tease you. Or worse," he added, realization dawning, "you think I'm doing this out of pity, don't you?"  
  
Draco said nothing. He stared at his pumpkin pasty, but the fact that his face was considerably paler than normal gave his thoughts away.  
  
"You do!"  
  
"Aren't I right?" Draco asked quietly.  
  
"Of course not!"  
  
"Well, can you blame me?" Draco burst, sitting up. "This is so unexpected, and sudden, and completely bizarre! We are complete opposites! All of a sudden my feelings change, but that doesn't mean yours have to. Sooner or later, you'll just-"  
  
"Draco!" Draco stopped and looked at Harry, breathing hard. "Listen to me, Draco. I enjoy this. Yes, its bizarre, and yes, its rather sudden but I can guarantee I would not be here if I didn't want to be." Harry took a deep breath to steady the sudden wave of emotion that had overtaken him. He put a hand on Draco's shoulder to calm the other boy's visible quaking. "As strange as this may be, I am really beginning to value this friendship." He brought a slightly shaking hand up to meet a pale cheek. "Just - just trust me, okay?"  
  
"I have a problem with trust, Potter," Draco muttered, watching Harry's hand out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"Then we'll fix it."  
  
Draco looked straight into Harry's eyes as he reached up and took hold of his hand. He slowly brought it down to rest beside them, and gave it the smallest of squeezes. And then, to Harry's complete bewilderment, Draco leaned forward.  
  
Harry saw him coming as if in slow motion, not registering at all what was happening. He could see Draco's eyes sparkling, sense his presence, feel his hot breath, and yet his mind and body stood still. And then Harry felt skin; soft lips gently, hesitantly brushing against his own, and it all hit him at once with the force of a thousand Bludgers. Awkward movements, fidgeting hands, and weeks worth of unidentified flirting all came crashing to a standstill. After the initial shock, Harry felt something new; complete acceptance. And when he realized he had been kissing Draco back all this time, he jumped back.   
  
"No," he whispered. Draco leaned back as well, flushed. "No… no!" Harry shouted. Draco's eyes widened.  
  
"Harry… oh god, I'm sorry… I didn't think…" Draco kept sputtering explanations, but Harry was already up; he was already backing towards the door, his eyes never leaving Draco's.  
  
And before Draco could mutter another word, Harry had opened the door behind him, stepped out, and left Draco helpless behind him.  
  
* * *  
  
Ginny had just walked into the common room from a stroll around the lake. Once again, she had been by herself on her afternoon off, but it really didn't bother her anymore. In fact, she was beginning to like her own company. But she saw Hermione in the corner, eyes red, and had to go see what was wrong. Hermione was one of the few friends Ginny actually had.  
  
"Hermione?" she asked, carefully venturing over. If she was upset because of a fight with Ron, everyone was smart to stay away. But Hermione looked up, and Ginny noticed she was smiling.  
  
"Hey Ginny," she muttered, and pulled the younger girl into a chair next to her.  
  
"Hey, are you okay? You look like you've been crying." Ginny asked.  
  
"Its Ron," she began.  
  
"Another argument? He's such a dunderhead; he'll smarten up someday. But Hermione, why are you smiling?"  
  
A few more tears spilled down Hermione's cheek. "Because Ginny… I think I'm in love!"  
  
Ginny gasped, then smiled, thinking of her brother. "I hope its Ron."  
  
"Oh yes, of course its Ron!" Hermione laughed. "We had an argument about my studying again this morning, and when I walked out, I couldn't concentrate on anything else. I could only think about Ron and our fight." Hermione sniffed, and giggled. "It just made me realize how much I care about him. I really think I love him, Ginny."  
  
Ginny's smile widened. "Oh Hermione, that's wonderful!"  
  
Hermione laughed again; Ginny had never heard a laugh so full of pure joy before. "I sound like a bumbling idiot; I sound like such a girl! Getting all worked up over a boy. Especially a boy that isn't speaking with me at the moment! I never thought about boys. I always figured my first boyfriend would be, well… my husband. I never even thought much about that part of my future. With two boys as your best friends, you don't think much about girl stuff."  
  
"But having boys as your best friends worked out well, didn't it?" Ginny asked, smiling slyly. Hermione nodded. They sat in silence for a bit until Hermione burst into tears again.  
  
"Hermione! What's wrong?" Ginny asked, shocked.  
  
"I don't know. Nothing. I'm just… happy. And at the same time I'm horrible, because… well, we haven't exactly made up yet, and he's still not talking to me…"  
  
Just then, the portrait hole opened up and Harry tore through the common room, avoiding everyone's eyes. Ginny and Hermione glanced up from their shadowed corner. "What's with him?" Hermione sniffed.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry slammed the dormitory door shut and leaned against it, breathing hard. He brought a hand to his furiously beating heart. It was quite a rush, sprinting from the other side of the castle. Harry looked around and took a deep breath. Empty. Perfect. He began to walk to his bed.  
  
"Harry?" Harry spun around toward the voice, his heart threatening to burst.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
Ron climbed out from between the curtains of his four-poster, wiping his nose. Harry knew Ron well and long enough to know he'd been crying, but decided against bringing it up. Ron was one for pride and dignity, which was probably the reason he was hiding up here.  
  
"What's up Ron?" he asked tentatively. Ron grunted in response and collapsed back on his bed. Harry followed.  
  
"Girls, Harry! Girls! They're useless, the lot of them." Harry settled back against the headboard. When Ron got started on girls, it could take hours. Harry was relieved and welcomes the intrusion on his own thoughts.  
  
"What happened with Hermione?"  
  
"She walked out on me! We were having a discussion-" Harry coughed - "Okay, an argument. We were fighting about her study habits, and she walked out."  
  
Harry frowned. "She thought you'd be over that by now. You know how school is to Hermione, Ron. She's a study-freak. We've all had plenty of time to get over it."  
  
"Well, its not something easy to get over, Harry! I just feel like I should mean more to her than some dusty books."  
  
"Well, sure, but that's not the point. Hermione cares about you, God knows why. Ron, you guys took so long to tell each other how you felt, don't lose it now because you're being a prat."  
  
"I'm being a prat?!"  
  
"Yes. Now go apologize!"  
  
Ron sighed. "I should. I want to. But I can't."  
  
"Why not?"   
  
He smiled sardonically. "She's not talking to me." Harry shook his head.  
  
"Uh, Ron…" Harry gulped. Now or never, he thought. "I want to talk to you about, well… the discussion you had with me and Hermione a while back. About Draco. We haven't really… discussed it yet."  
  
Ron coughed. "First names? If we're going to have this discussion, do we have to use first names?"  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"Okay, okay! His name is Draco, not Ferret-Face."  
  
"Ron," Harry growled.   
  
"I'm kidding! Now talk before I change my mind."  
  
"I just want to make sure you're okay with this."  
  
Ron sat up, stunned. "Okay with it? Okay with it? Of course I'm not okay with it! Harry, its Malfoy! He's still a creep!"  
  
"He's a good person, Ron, you just have to look beyond his exterior."  
  
"You mean he's not slimy on the inside as well? Gee, there's a shocker."  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"Harry, I'm sorry. But it's still Malfoy, no matter how hard you try and convince me otherwise. I mean… its Malfoy!"  
  
"Ron, he's more than just 'Malfoy'. He's Draco. He has a mind of his own, and beautiful opinions, and a sweet nature, he just has an overbearing father. He's got pressure, just like we do, but his influences were all evil growing up, not good. That's why he's so bad on the outside."  
  
"You didn't have the best upbringing either, and you turned out all right."  
  
Harry smiled. "Yeah, well, everyone keeps telling me I'm special. But I've seen inside Draco, Ron. He talks to me, tells me things. I talk to him. He's a really great guy. I just wish you could see that."  
  
Ron sighed. "Oh, Harry… you feel this strongly about him?" Harry nodded. "Then I suppose the only thing I can do is approve, right?"  
  
Harry burst into a grin. "Oh, Ron…" He was speechless.  
  
"Just promise me, Harry. Don't ever make me forget the picture of Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret… Crouch was a lunatic, but he was still a genius…" They shared a laugh.  
  
When their laughter died down, they sat in silence for a few minutes, Ron staring out the window, Harry at his hands. This has never happened before. Sure, Ron talked about girls a lot, about Quidditch a lot, about chess a lot, but they had always talked. Harry had never experienced this awful, awkward silence with his best friend before. Ron must have felt it too, by the way he was fidgeting suddenly.  
  
"So, Harry… you were with him today, I take it?"  
  
Harry almost laughed. "He has a name, Ron."  
  
"Yeah, but I don't like saying it." Harry shook his head.  
  
"Okay, okay… you were with Draco today?"  
  
"There's a good lad." Harry ducked a flying pillow. "Yeah, we hung out today… he's good to talk to, when you're wrapped up with Hermione."  
  
"I still just can't believe you two are… well… I mean, how did you forgive him? For all the awful stuff he's done to us over the years?"  
  
"I don't know. I mean, forgive and forget, right?"  
  
Ron frowned. "You act too lenient with him. I know, I know I said I'm okay, but still. I mean, I'd make him pay, big time, before trying to be friends. He's called Hermione a mudblood how many times? He gave me a bloody nose!"   
  
Harry laughed. "Ron, you hit him first."  
  
"He started it…"  
  
"Listen, I don't really know why we just became friends. We just… did. Hermione talked to me about it, and we figured-"  
  
"Wait, Hermione had something to do with this? I thought she just told you to be more civil to him." Ron raised an eyebrow. "What did she say?"  
  
"Just that maybe there's more to him than meets the eye, and I should give him a chance."  
  
"Where would she get a crazy idea like that?"  
  
Harry shifted nervously. He hadn't actually told Ron anything about Draco. He wasn't even sure he wanted to, but Ron was his best friend. "Well, ah… he confided something in me, and I told Hermione, and we just decided that maybe I should extend the hand of friendship to him. Maybe it'll teach him not to be such a git. And you've got to admit, he's been much easier to be around lately. He hasn't insulted you once…"  
  
Ron held up his hands. "True, true. But what did he tell you? How can you be sure he wasn't lying?"  
  
Harry blushed. "I don't think this is something he'd lie about, Ron."  
  
"What is it? Is he in love with you or something?"  
  
Harry choked back a cough. "What?" he sputtered. "How did you know?"  
  
Ron grinned. "Is he? Wow. Lucky guess. Not that I'm surprised, really… I mean, you pick on the ones you like, right? Like me with Hermione. But still, evil son-of-a-Death-Eater Draco Malfoy in love with the perfect Boy-Who-Lived Harry Potter? Unbelievable, really."  
  
"Ron…"  
  
"It's not a bad thing, mind you. Perfectly normal, really. Wizards are so much more tolerant and indulgent than Muggles, they are. But still, Malfoy and Potter… so odd…"  
  
"Ron."  
  
"And then there's you… who's to say you even care? I mean, I don't think I've ever known you to have a crush, other than Cho that is, but still… you're just trying to be friends with him and people can barely get over that. How weird would everyone get if you started dating him?"  
  
"Ron!"  
  
Ron looked up from his rambling. "What?"  
  
"He kissed me." Harry was surprised he had admitted it. He was just meaning to tell Ron that there was nothing between him and Draco, but the incident of earlier just came out. Ron's eyes widened.  
  
"Did he? Hmmm… he's a daring one, he is."  
  
Harry stared at Ron. "Is that all you have to say?"  
  
"Right. Okay, um… When's the wedding?" Ron suggested.  
  
"Ron!"  
  
Ron laughed. "Well Harry, what do you want me to say? Do you want my approval of something you have no control over, and that already happened?"  
  
"No, of course not…" Harry paused. "I want you to tell me what I should do."  
  
"I can't do that Harry, you know that. Its up to you whether you tell Draco to go to hell, to let him down easy, or… well, you know, the other option."  
  
Harry sighed. "How am I supposed to consider it if you can't even say it?"  
  
"Do you want to consider it?" Ron asked, eyebrow raised.  
  
Harry sighed again and stared at the pattern on Ron's pillow. "I don't know…"  
  
To his surprise, Ron clapped his hands together. "Oh, how wonderful! Harry's in love!"  
  
"I am not!" Harry cried.  
  
Ron laughed. "Well, of course not. I was just teasing, because its so fun and now, so easy! But I am going to ask you a question, and I need you to give me the most honest answer you've ever given anyone, okay?" Harry nodded nervously. "What did you feel when he kissed you?"   
  
And so Harry thought. He had figured talking to Ron would distract him from his thoughts; he should have known better. What did he feel? He knew he liked having Draco as a friend. Harry had never thought it possible, but he did. And when they had kissed, Harry was sure he felt something. Did he even want to? Was it real? He knew what Draco felt. Friendship with one's enemy was one thing. Could he, Harry, have feelings for Draco?  
  
Now, our Mr. Potter has never thought of himself as a special person, am I wrong? He never considered himself better than anyone else, despite his history. Yes, Harry was human. Maybe this was why he fell into denial now.  
  
"There's nothing going on." Harry sat up straighter. "Its nothing… nothing."  
  
Ron looked at Harry closely. Harry shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but Ron smiled. "Oh. Okay, Harry. I believe you." Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief.  
  
Little did Harry know, Ron didn't believe him one bit. Fortunately, Ron did believe that Harry's heart would soon let the rest of him in on what was going on. He sighed as Harry moved to his own bed. He was losing his best friend to his archenemy, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. And then there was Hermione… he jumped up.  
  
"You know what, Harry?" he asked. Harry jumped as if startled and looked at Ron.   
  
"What?"  
  
"You've inspired me. I'm going to stop being a prat and go apologize." He walked out of the room and closed the door behind me. "I've got to save at least one relationship," he whispered into the shadows, and proceeded down to the common room. 


End file.
